


Law of Averages: The Sequelets

by rons_pigwidgeon



Series: Law of Averages [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry, BDSM Scene, Dildos, Drinking & Talking, Gay Sex, M/M, Spanking, Spreader Bars, incubus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/rons_pigwidgeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlet sequels to Law of Averages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sexual Deviance

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to drarryisgreen for betaing.

Harry groaned into his hands in exasperation. A lecture was the last thing he needed at the moment. "To be completely honest, this isn't any of your business, sir," he said with as much patience as he could manage. He could tolerate quite a bit of interference in his personal life, but this drew the line.

Trowlsmith gave him an impatient look of his own. "I cannot have the head of my Aurors seen cavorting around with a sex demon. I don't care what you've done in the past; this isn't acceptable."

"All right, first off Blaise isn't a sex demon. He is a Ministry-recognized magical creature who obtains sustenance from sexual energy. He is not evil or demonic, nor are wizard/incubus relationships illegal. Marriage equality was granted to us all in the Equal Rights Act of 1998. Secondly, I was not 'cavorting' with him. We went to dinner, as we have done on several occasions in the last few weeks. We are in a relationship. It is what people in relationships do. It is also absolutely none of your business."

"It is when it makes it to the front page of Witch Weekly."

"It's unfortunate that you care so much what Witch Weekly has to say about me, but it won't change the facts. I am in a committed relationship with a man who happens to be an incubus. I will remain in a relationship with him regardless of your or the public's opinion on the matter. My personal life is not up for debate."

"I have had fifteen owls and three howlers about this incident this morning alone. I cannot ignore the public, and they are demanding answers."

"I reiterate that my relationship is not up for debate. I don't owe you or the public anything except my continued service to the Aurors. And I will not be ending my relationship simply because it makes you uncomfortable."

Trowlsmith gave him a stern look, clearly unimpressed with Harry's life choices. Harry remained firm. "I want you to make a statement to reassure the public that the rumors of your sexual deviancy are unsubstantiated."

Harry barked out a laugh. Really, this was taking this too far. "My sexual deviancy?! You cannot be serious. Exactly which part of my relationship with Blaise Zabini is sexually deviant: the part where he's an incubus or the part where he's a man?"

Trowlsmith froze, the realization that he may have crossed the line written all over his stricken face. "I..."

"I will make a statement because I recognize that the rumors will only become more sensational the longer Blaise and I are seen in public together, but I will not be denouncing my relationship. Blaise is a part of my life now. You and the public will have to get used to it."

Harry's tight mouth and crossed arms didn't give the Minister much leeway to protest. He sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine, do what you want. If this comes back to bite us, it's on your arse."

"Thanks. Is there anything else? I've got a department meeting in ten."

"No, that's it."

"Good afternoon, then," Harry said, standing and walking out. He was more annoyed than he had vocabulary to express. He stalked down to his office and slammed the door.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry was still annoyed when he arrived home that evening. He found Blaise lounging in his favorite chair, reading a finance magazine. Harry didn't even bother saying hello before collapsing into his lap. Blaise put the magazine aside and pulled him close, kissing him in greeting. "Why so grumpy, love?"

"The Minister of Magic is an arse," Harry growled, burying his face in Blaise's neck.

"He is indeed. I don't know why anyone voted for him. What did he do to put you in such a mood?" Blaise had already begun stripping away his Auror robes and was trailing kisses down his neck.

"He called our relationship sexual deviancy and told me I needed to deny it to the press." Harry scowled despite the tongue in his ear and the hand stroking down his bare stomach. "I'm not even sure if he wasn't being homophobic."

"I think what I am about to do to you would rate high on the sexual deviancy scale, love."

Harry snorted. "Stop it, you're supposed to be as righteously indignant as I am."

"I apologize. Would you like me to turn you over this chair and show you just how indignant I am?" Blaise purred into his ear, his fingers stroking over the bulge in Harry's pants.

Harry's breath caught and his fingers clenched at Blaise's neck. "Yeah, I would." He turned in Blaise's lap, kissing him hard, his fingers working at the buttons on Blaise's shirt. "I want you to fuck me until I forget all about the Minister," he said against Blaise's lips.

Blaise's throat emitted a low rumble as he picked Harry up and reversed their positions, propping Harry up on his knees on the seat cushion and pulling the rest of his clothing off him. "Mmm, I could spend hours eating this gorgeous arse of yours," he hummed, slapping Harry's bare bum lightly before spreading the cheeks to reveal his winking hole. He took a moment to admire it as Harry whined and squirmed under him.

"I'd say take a picture, but I know where it would end up," Harry muttered after a minute of his arsehole twitching under the exposure of the cool air without any movement.

Blaise chuckled and brushed a thumb across it. "Why would I need a picture when I could bend you over and look my fill any time I want?" He licked a stripe up the exposed flesh, slapping Harry's arse again as he moaned his pleasure. Blaise stopped teasing and pressed his lips to his hole, sucking hard. Harry cried out, bucking into his tongue. He obliged the obvious request and probed the entrance, gradually needling his way inside. Harry was still a little loose from their fuck that morning, but he would need to be stretched again. Some men would consider requiring their lover to wear a plug so that he could be entered at any time without preparation, but not Blaise. He enjoyed this play as much as the fucking, loved tasting his lover, watching as his mate slowly opened to accommodate him. It didn't hurt that Harry enjoyed having a tongue inside him nearly as much as a cock.

Harry rocked back onto Blaise's tongue, clutching the back of the chair in white knuckles. Soon Blaise had three fingers inside him and was massaging his prostate in intense circles. Harry couldn't hold himself together under the onslaught and cried out his orgasm, come showering the chair cushion. Blaise grinned against his skin, slowing his finger thrusts until the after-shakes had settled before pulling them out. He pulled a small pot from his trouser pocket before shedding them and standing. He opened the pot and dipped his fingers in, pausing with them at Harry's entrance to ask, "And how are we feeling about the Minister now?"

Harry grumbled and pushed his arse out towards Blaise. "You're supposed to be fucking me, not reminding me why I'm pissed off."

Blaise smiled to himself and spread the lube over Harry's stretched hole. "As you wish," he answered as he stroked the lube over his erection and aligned himself with Harry and pushed in. Harry melted into a puddle of moaning flesh beneath him, boneless with pleasure as Blaise slowly pushed in. He enjoyed the stretch and the rub of the nodules against his prostate as much as Blaise enjoyed tasting his arse.

"Mmm, I've been waiting for this all day. Don't stop, I want all of you in at once." His voice was shaking with need. Blaise didn't stop until his bollocks rested against Harry's perineum. He clamped onto Harry's neck and pulled him backwards against his chest, arching his back so far that it shifted his position inside Harry and caused his shaft to rub hard against Harry's prostate. Harry whimpered, clinging onto his wrist with one hand and his hip with the other.

"Is this good enough for you, love?" Blaise purred into his ear.

Harry nodded, moving his hips forward a little to encourage him to thrust. Blaise took the hint and pulled back, nearly out, before thrusting back in again. Slow went out the window. Harry fell forward, gripping onto the chair back again for leverage to push back against Blaise. It wasn't long before he was trembling in orgasm again, clenching around Blaise and surging his body with orgasmic energy enough to push him over as well.

He felt drunk on Harry's energy, so satiated that he was finding it difficult to stand. He pulled out gently and collapsed to his knees on the carpet. Harry glanced over his shoulder, smiling drunkenly himself. He slipped from the chair and into Blaise's lap to kiss him lazily. "And what do you think of the Minister now?" Blaise asked, running a finger down Harry's crack to dip into his dripping hole.

Harry squirmed, grinning, and kissed him again. "The who?"

"It appears I have succeeded, then." He lifted his wet finger up to Harry's lips, eyes flashing red as Harry sucked it clean. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving. I'm not going to be able to stand, though."

"Stay here. I will bring your dinner." He set Harry on the hearthrug for warmth and went to get the dinner his elf had left for them. When he returned, Harry was sprawled out, stretching his arms above his head. His body glistened in the fire light. "You are truly a treasure to be had," Blaise said as he joined him, setting the plates next to them and crawling over Harry to lick the drying come from his chest and stomach. Harry arched up into him, humming in pleasure.

"You make me feel like a kept boy sometimes."

"I would like nothing more than for you to be just that. And as my kept boy, I demand that you let me feed you." He pulled Harry up and held a piece of bread to his mouth. Harry raised an eyebrow, but let himself be fed. He was too well-fucked to argue.


	2. The Green-Eyed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry is clueless and Blaise somehow manages not to murder complete strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second in a series of ficlet sequels to Law of Averages. I would like to thank my reader, stubs1101 from ff.net, for suggesting jealous!Blaise reinstating his claim over Harry. I hope this fits what you were looking for. It certainly pushed all my buttons (and a few I didn’t even know I had ;) 
> 
> If there is an aspect of Blaise and Harry's life or a scenario within the Law of Averages universe you are interested in seeing written, please do not hesitate to ask either in the comments below or by PM or email at rons.pigwidgeon[AT]gmail[DOT]com. I cannot guarantee that I will write every suggestion I get, but I will certainly take them all under consideration.

“You said you’d take me to your club,” Harry said, nudging Blaise with his elbow as they walked down the street hand-in-hand. There was a paparazzo down the block, but Harry had long given up caring who saw the two of them together. 

“I said I would take you if you wanted to go. You never said that you did,” Blaise corrected. 

“Well, I do. I want to see where you spend your nights when you’re not with me.”

Blaise looked Harry up and down, smirking. “You aren’t exactly dressed for it.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course there’s a dress code. All right, we’ll go back to the flat and you can dress me up however you like, and then we’ll go.”

Blaise stopped walking and pulled Harry close by his hand, looking down at him with the sort of intensity that set Harry’s cock rising and his knees to the floor. “You would let me dress you however I deem appropriate?”

“I trust you,” Harry answered, tugging at his shirt tail until it came un-tucked and using it to pull Blaise down for a kiss. 

Blaise made a dark purring sound in his chest and nipped at Harry’s lip. “You have no idea the pleasure those words give me. Say them again.” By now he had Harry wrapped up in his arms like a present, and Harry cuddled closer, grinning. 

“I trust you,” he repeated, earning himself a deeper kiss and a squeeze to his bum. 

“You are going to kill me one day. Come along before I push you against this building and do unspeakable things to you while that disgusting meatbag takes photographs.” 

Harry groaned at the thought of where those pictures might end up, even as a tiny voice in his head let him know what a delectable idea it was to have Blaise fuck him in public, claim him, let everyone know exactly to whom he belonged. 

Harry ignored the voice and let Blaise Apparate them into the flat and straight to the bedroom, where he settled Harry on the bed and began looking through his closet. A few moments later, Blaise emerged, frowning. “I should have known you would not have the proper clothing.”

“I have dress robes in the very back.”

Blaise shook his head. “While I appreciate the assistance, that is not the sort of attire for which you have need. We shall have to go to the Manor and find something more suitable for you.” 

Harry frowned in confusion, but allowed Blaise to wrap him up and Apparate away again without argument. They arrived in a room Harry neither recognized nor understood. It was dimly lit, the stone walls sparsely decorated. There were chains on the walls, rich rosewood cabinets lined the back wall, and there was strange furniture dotted around the room, most of it closer resembling examination tables and torture devices than anything else. Harry would have thought they were in a medieval dungeon except that there was a bank of windows on one wall that told him they were on the third floor. Harry turned to Blaise, who had pulled away and was rummaging through a drawer in one of the cabinets.

“What is this place?” he asked, moving over to a leather-upholstered bench that had leather cuffs attached to the sides of the front half and the back legs of the other. He fingered one cuff, recognizing the supple leather Blaise often used to restrain him in bed. It only took him a moment to recognize how a person might be restrained on the bench. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, distracting him so that he didn’t hear Blaise walking up behind him and pulling him close against his chest.

“This is the playroom. I was waiting until you moved in to show it to you, but your stubbornness has proven too strong for my willpower to withstand.”

“I told you, not until my lease is up...”

“Yes, not for another three months. But then you will be mine all the time, to play with as I like, won’t you, pet?” He emphasized his point by caressing a hand down the front of Harry’s trousers and licking his ear. 

Harry moaned and rubbed back against him, feeling that thick cock through three layers of clothing, hard and ready for him. “I’m already yours to play with all the time.”

“Yes, you are. And right now, I want you in these.” He held up what he had found in the cabinet drawer for Harry’s examination. It was a pair of black leather shorts—very small black leather shorts. 

“What? But… where’re the rest of them?” Harry asked, taking the shorts from him and turning them this way and that, hoping they would expand if he turned them to just the right angle. They didn’t.

Blaise chuckled and pressed a kiss to Harry’s shoulder before stepping away. “They are in their entirety. I must change myself. Strip and put them on.” He paused, catching Harry’s incredulous look at him over his shoulder. He was clutching the shorts in a white-knuckled grip. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

Harry sputtered and started to speak, but broke off before he could and stared at the shorts once more. Did Blaise actually expect him to go out in public in just a pair of leather shorts? He wasn’t even going to wear shoes? Or a shirt? Or hell, maybe pants? Though realistically, the shorts were more like pants themselves and weren’t going to leave him room for anything else. The press was going to have a field day if they photographed him like this. He glanced back at Blaise, who was already stripping in preparation for his evening attire. He methodically removed his clothing piece by piece, folded it, and set it aside. As Harry watched, he was reminded of how careful Blaise was with Harry, as well. He would never do something that could jeopardize Harry’s career or his reputation, and Harry knew it. He hadn’t been lying when he said he trusted his lover. He knew he was safe with him. So why was he still standing there like a dolt? He immediately pushed aside his own sense of modesty and began to strip.

By the time he had finished dressing, Blaise was waiting patiently for him, dressed in tight leather trousers that left nothing of what lie underneath them to the imagination, thick motorcycle boots, and nothing else. He visually caressed Harry, licking his lips in appreciation of what he saw. “I knew you would look stunning like this, but even my imagination did not do you justice. Come here.”

Harry did as he was told and was rewarded by a deep, tongue-fucking kiss that left him panting and a little weak-kneed. Blaise pulled back to comb fingers through Harry’s hair and stroke his cheek. “There are a few things I want to discuss before we leave. My club caters to a particular type of clientele, which is why I have asked you to dress in these nectarous short trousers. Are you familiar with the BDSM lifestyle?”

Harry hesitated. “I’ve… heard of it. One of my Aurors used to work as a bartender in a BDSM club for a while before she joined up. It’s all the whips and chains stuff, right?”

Blaise smiled and pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Many of the less serious clubs cater to those who enjoy the sort of activity you have described on a recreational basis. The members of my club approach BDSM as a lifestyle, rather than a diverting activity to get each other off on the weekends. It is similar to what we do when we are alone together, only much more intense and involved than the simple orders I give you and the restraints we use. A majority of my members are in partnerships, as we are, consisting of a dominant and a submissive. Can you guess which role you would be considered?”

Harry’s heartbeat accelerated and he dropped his eyes to the dark skin of Blaise’s chest. “Submissive,” he breathed, reaching out to graze the skin of Blaise’s abdomen, enjoying the electricity tingling his fingertips. 

“Very good. When we are at my club, you will be expected to act as such. That will mean that you will follow my directions, only speak when spoken to, and you will refer to me as Sir or Master.”

Harry frowned, ready to protest. They had already had the conversation about his being treated like a pet on several occasions. Blaise cut him off with fingers to his lips. “In return, I will do as I always do and make sure that you are safe, comfortable, and happy. I will not ask you to do anything that I think would go against your moral compass or push you beyond what I think you can handle. Do we have a bargain?”

Harry hesitated once more, unsure if this was worth seeing his lover’s club. He had thought they would just have a few drinks, chat with a few of the regulars, and then go home to fuck in bed until all hours of the morning, but this was a bit more intense than he bargained for. He trusted Blaise, though, and this was obviously an important part of his life. What could it hurt to try? Except… “What about the press? Getting caught snogging outside of a restaurant is a little bit different from playing sex games in a gay bar, isn’t it?”

Blaise clenched his teeth together, but combed through Harry’s hair again calmly and quickly relaxed. “I will remind you once more that I own a private club, not a gay bar. Private: meaning that it is only accessible to members and their guests, and, like the EAIS, all members are required to sign a confidentiality agreement before entering.”

“So there won’t be any press?”

“Exactly.”

“Why don’t I get to wear shoes?”

“You won’t need them. The club is kept in pristine condition, and I certainly will not be taking you outside in this.” He stroked down Harry’s leather-clad arse with one hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted, and he crowded closer, pressing his hands to Blaise’s chest. “All right, I’ll give it a go. But we’ll come home if I don’t like it?”

“Absolutely. Say the word and we will be back here the next second.”

“Okay. Show me this club of yours, then.” Blaise leaned down to kiss him again. Harry could feel the magic building in Blaise’s fingers against his skin, preparing to Apparate, but Harry cried out, “Wait! I almost forgot.” He pulled away and walked back to his clothes to riffle around his trousers until he pulled out his wand. 

Blaise raised an eyebrow at him. “You do not need your wand.”

“I’m an Auror. I always need my wand.” 

“Not there and not with me. Besides, where do you propose to put it? I assure you those shorts have no pockets.”

“Will you hold it for me? I can’t leave the house without my wand. What if something happens?”

“I will take care of you.” 

Harry scowled. “Yes, if I’m in trouble, but I have an obligation to do something if other people are in trouble. I made an oath to protect the public no matter the context, and even when I’m off-duty.” He walked over, holding his wand out to Blaise. “Please, just take it. I doubt I’ll need it, but I would be very upset if something were to happen and I didn’t have access to it. It will make me more comfortable.”

Blaise sighed and took it, tucking it into his boot next to his own rarely used wand. “Whatever will make you happy. Do we have everything we could possibly need now?”

Harry made a face and slipped his arms around Blaise’s waist. “Get on with it,” he muttered into Blaise’s shoulder. Blaise didn’t let him put any more protests up, and instead Apparated them without another word. They arrived in another dimly lit room, the walls and ceiling covered in deep purple velvet and the floor a plush black carpet that squished in Harry’s toes better than fresh-cut grass. 

“This is the entryway. Members Apparate here and may use the space to change into appropriate attire, if they were unable to change before arrival.” He pointed to an alcove that held a chair and the entrance to a cloak room where a dapper young man in black dress robes sat, watching them with hawk eyes. “This is Alonso, the cloak boy. Alonso, meet my mate Harry. You will treat him with the same deference with which you treat me and assist him in any way he might need.” 

Alonso looked Harry over un-approvingly and nodded to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” he greeted in a voice that spoke of anything but pleasure. His glance at Blaise told Harry why. 

Harry smiled at the boy, but didn’t give him much further thought. He had learned long ago that he couldn’t please everyone and there was no point in trying. Blaise took him through the black velvet door in front of them and into the club proper. Harry was shocked at what he saw. There was a bar area that was the typical sort in a high-end establishment with a large mahogany bar served by two barmen, both impeccably dressed, and plush leather barstools, half-filled with men dressed in leather. The leather was odd, but ignorable. The large stage area across the room, decked out in the same sort of furniture and decoration as had been in Blaise’s playroom, was not. Nor were the several dozen men being led on leads or sitting at their partners’ feet or in their laps, being openly fondled and, in one case, fucked by a rather large dildo as he was spread across a slick black table. Harry could only just make out what was happening from his vantage point, as there were several other men standing around the table watching, cat-calling, and otherwise encouraging the proceedings. Harry clung closer to Blaise without realizing. 

“What do you think?” Blaise asked, pulling him close to whisper in his ear. 

“You didn’t mention people would be fucking out in the open like that,” Harry answered, unable to keep his eyes from the growing crowd.

“I thought to surprise you. That is Joshua and his boy, Paul. Paul enjoys being an exhibitionist and Joshua enjoys indulging him. They have done far more extreme acts than that in this club, I can assure you.”

“Where’d they get the dildo?”

“They ordered off the menu, I imagine.”

“The menu?” Harry looked shocked. He couldn’t imagine ordering a dildo of any size off of a menu, let alone using it to fuck his lover in plain view of the rest of the establishment. He couldn’t imagine letting Blaise or anyone else fuck him that way either. 

“Let me introduce you to my barmen and I will show you,” Blaise answered, directing Harry to the bar and situating him on a stool. The two barmen both swooped in, smiling crooked smiles that reminded Harry of the Weasley twins, until he noticed that they were as identical as Fred and George had been, and no longer knew what to think. They wore leather shorts similar to Harry’s, short-sleeved Oxford shirts, and leather suspenders in navy and green with matching leather bowties. 

“You’ve brought your young gentleman to meet us finally, then, sir?” the green-suspendered one on the right asked. He had a thick Irish brogue that set Harry’s trousers tingling. He’d always liked an Irish accent.

“I have indeed, Adric. This is Mr. Harry Potter. Please consider him an extension of myself and behave accordingly.”

“Of course, sir,” they said as one, straightening. Harry wouldn’t have been surprised if they had saluted. 

“Harry, this is Adric and Turlough Brennan. They will take care of you if you should need anything, and I am not in your immediate vicinity.”

Harry turned to Blaise, brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t you be in my immediate vicinity… sir?” he added at the raised eyebrow he received. He had almost forgotten the honorifics he was meant to use, but an unexpected shiver of pleasure went up his spine as the word left his mouth. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant to say as he’d thought it would be.

“I am needed occasionally to settle disputes and take care of unexpected difficulties, should they arise. Am I incorrect to assume that you would be uninterested in business matters?”

Harry hesitated, glancing from Blaise to the room and back again. He had to remind himself that he did not need to be right next to Blaise at all times in order to enjoy himself, and of course Blaise was right. He had no interest in the business. He put out enough fires at his own office. “You’re right, sir.” 

Blaise kissed his temple and turned him to face the bar, arms bracketing him in by leaning on the bar on either side of him. “Turlough, bring my pet a bridled lamb and a menu. He would like to see what we have to offer. I’ll have the usual.” 

As Turlough went off to do as ordered and Adric went to help a customer, Harry turned to Blaise. “What’s a bridled lamb?”

“You’ll like it. Do you see anything you’d like on the menu?” He pressed a kiss to Harry’s neck, nudging him back to face the bar. The requested menu had appeared in front of Harry, a leather book bound with gold tassels. Harry picked it up and began thumbing through it. He only recognized the names of some of the items, all sex toys as far as he could tell. He had to ask Blaise about several and was wide-eyed and shocked by Blaise’s answers. He was particularly entranced by the idea of a spreader bar. 

“It’s like the cuffs? I couldn’t get out?” he asked, lingering over the item description.

“You’d be open and waiting for me to play with you. Would you like that, being spread for everyone to see you, just waiting for me to do as I like with your prone, naked body?”

Harry caught his breath. “Yes.” 

“I thought you would. I will be back in a moment. Do not move from this stool unless your life is in danger.”

Harry whipped around in the seat. “What? Where are you going? You can’t leave me here alone, sir,” he insisted, grabbing onto Blaise’s wrist to stop his backward movement. 

Blaise patiently kissed his lips and turned him back in his chair. “I will be back in a moment. Taste your drink, look about you. I expect a full report of what you think when I return.” He pressed a second kiss to Harry’s shoulder and placed Harry’s wand in front of him on the bar. “You will be fine. The twins will look after you, and no one in this bar would dare touch you after having seen that you are mine. I will be back shortly.” With that he disappeared from Harry’s back, leaving Harry exposed and alone and feeling very self-conscious of every other man in the room. He reached for his drink, set on a violet napkin to the right of the menu, and took a long sip of it. He immediately melted at how good it tasted, sweet and thick and oh-so-delicious. Taking another drink managed to calm him enough to look about the club. He soon distracted himself watching a small submissive suck his dominant’s cock from his position on the floor, several tables away from the bar.

Blaise had been gone for a while, long enough for Harry to have finished his first drink and been given another. The boy had sucked his master to completion and was now kneeling at the man’s feet, resting his head against the man’s knee while the man petted his hair and talked to another club member. Harry was shifting uncomfortably on the stool he’d been left at, self-conscious of his near-naked state now that he didn’t have Blaise there to distract him. Harry was just thinking of getting up to look for him, despite his clear instruction to stay put, when a man sidled up next to him and leant his elbow on the bar. 

“Hello, gorgeous. First time here?” he asked, draping his arm across the back of Harry’s stool. He was attractive, well-built and very pale. For a moment, Harry was reminded of Sigurd, except that this man was of average height and obviously not a vampire. There was also the fact that he was wearing leather chaps and little else.

“Yeah. It’s uh... not what I expected,” Harry admitted, blushing.

The man smirked and patted Harry’s shoulder. “First-timers are always a little nervous, but you needn’t worry. You’ve got someone to look after you now.”

“I know. I just wish I knew where he’s gone.” Harry turned to look around the room for Blaise in vein. When he turned back to the man, he was right in Harry’s personal space, startling him. 

“I’m right here, pet. I’ll take good care of you.” He stroked Harry’s cheek, his thumb grazing Harry’s bottom lip. Harry was too stunned to push him away. “What did you come here for? A bit of submission, a bit of spanking, maybe a hard fuck? I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was saved the necessity. “What he needs is to be left un-harassed at the bar where his master left him. I suggest if you would like to continue to enjoy having limbs that you remove them from his person immediately,” Blaise growled, his eyes and cheeks a bright red Harry normally only associated with sex. Blaise was nothing near aroused, though. He looked as though he was seriously suppressing the instinct to murder the man where he stood. Harry hadn’t seen that look since their first night together.

The man only smiled blithely and took a step back, eyeing Blaise up and down. “Zabini, I’d heard you found a new playtoy. He’s delicious, I’ll give you that. You should collar him if he’s hands-off. I didn’t see you come in.” He looked Harry over, his searching eyes like a visual grope over Harry’s bare skin. “If he’s not taking proper care of you, come and find me,” he said to Harry.

Harry turned to Blaise, reaching out to touch him as Blaise stepped between him and the other man. “Thank you, but that won’t be happening,” Harry said, sliding his hands over Blaise’s sides.

“Harry is correct. Graceling, this is my mate, Harry Potter. He is my exclusive property and will remain so. Permanently.” He stepped right into the other man’s personal space, towering over him both in physical height and aggression. “And if I hear you referring to my mate as a plaything ever again, I will personally see that you are torn limb from limb and then fed to wild dogs. Do you understand?” 

The man called Graceling nodded, taking a step back as though he finally understood the real danger he was in. Blaise glared one final time before turning his back on the man and focusing on Harry, his expression immediately warming. “I had thought to allow you time to acclimate to the club and get to know its members before taking you on stage, but this incident has assured me that a show of ownership is necessary. Would you be so good as to accompany me this way?” Blaise indicated the general direction of the stage, reaching behind Harry to take his wand back. Harry knew it was a request that wasn’t and slid off the stool. 

Blaise led him to the stage with a warm hand on his back, the tingle of his touch enough to distract Harry from what he was about to allow Blaise to do to him in front of strangers. “Did you enjoy your drink?” Blaise asked, leaning into his ear. 

“You knew I would.”

“As I know you will like this, once your nerves have settled.” 

Harry took a deep breath as they reached the stage and nodded. “I trust you, sir.”

Blaise’s grin as he ushered Harry up the two stairs was the largest Harry had ever seen on his face. “Music to my ears, pet. Strip and stand in the middle of the stage facing the back wall with your feet shoulder-width apart.” 

Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to earn him a smack on the bum and a look that brooked no argument. He did as he was told after that and took his shorts off, setting them aside on a bench very similar to the one he’d seen in Blaise’s playroom with the cuff restraints. Once they were put away, he stood in the middle of the stage the way he had been instructed and waited for his lover. It was good that he had been told to face the back wall because it meant that he didn’t have to see the dozens of eyes on his back. He could feel them, though, and that made him nervous enough. Somehow, the eyes also made the rebellious voice shouting inside his head—the one that couldn’t believe that he was about to let his lover fuck him in front of a room full of people who could all take photographs and go to the press with this story, confidentiality agreement or not—shut up and hide in the corner. 

He could sense Blaise behind him before he saw him. Harry turned his head to watch, but Blaise clamped onto his neck and turned his face back to the wall. “Face the wall where I put you.” He leaned into Harry’s shoulder to kiss his ear. “If it makes you feel more comfortable about the audience, I can blindfold you.” 

“No thanks,” Harry whispered back. 

“Good. Lean forward and touch your hands to the floor.” Harry didn’t hesitate at this next order. He kept his eyes on the floor so that he didn’t have to see the men watching as his legs spread, exposing his naked arsehole and the back of his bits. Blaise’s hand came to smooth over his arsecheek, and then he bowed down and kissed it. Harry let out a little whine. He watched Blaise’s hands bring a metal bar with four cuffs attached into his viewpoint. He attached the ankle cuffs first, nudging Harry’s legs a little farther apart to accommodate the length of the bar. He then attached the middle two cuffs to Harry’s wrists, making it impossible for him to stand up even if he wanted to. With another kiss to Harry’s arsecheek, Blaise stood back up and stepped away, leaving Harry open and exposed, deprived of any way of escaping his situation without magic. 

Harry felt his erection twitch and watched as it rose into his line of site, partially blocking his view of the black floorboards. He listened to the sounds of the club and of Blaise moving about, aware and not that there were two dozen or more eyes on his arsehole. He was distracted by thoughts of what Blaise was going to do, so distracted that when Blaise finally did something, the shock of pain was a bit more than he expected. It wasn’t even pain, really, just a sharp smack that woke him up and sent his nerves flying. He cried out, jerking forward and having to steady himself with his fingertips. Blaise soothed his tingling skin with a warm hand, his natural electrical shock sharpening the sting. It was followed by another two smacks in quick succession. By the fourth, Harry had figured out that he was being paddled. 

He couldn’t stop himself from crying out with each smack, until he was near tears by the time they stopped. His arse was hot and pulsing and so hyper-sensitive even the air against it made him moan. He was lifted and settled against a flat leather surface, his arse hanging just off the side. Blaise’s hands smoothed up his thighs, pressing them back until his ankles were lifted over his head and he was completely and utterly exposed. 

He looked up at Blaise, whimpering. All he could think about was Blaise’s cock inside him. Blaise smiled down at him, but chose to ignore his begging. He leaned forward to kiss Harry, sucking on his bottom lip. “You’re a good little sub, aren’t you?” Blaise purred, loud enough for the room to hear him.

Harry nodded, sucking in breaths like he was going to suffocate. “Yes, sir,” he managed.

“And to whom do you belong?”

“You, sir,” Harry answered, a little louder.

“And is anyone else permitted to touch you?”

“No, sir. Only you.”

“That’s right. Very good, pet. You’ll have your reward now for being such a good boy.” 

Harry squirmed as best as his circumstances would allow him. Blaise’s fingers began probing his entrance, coaxing him open with lube and the slow massage of his prostate. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the pleasure of it, the scrape of a thumb against his perineum, the sting of Blaise’s hot skin pressing against his sore arse. Blaise was inside him before he’d even noticed, leaning over him and nibbling at his throat as he thrust deeper than he’d ever been before. Harry moaned, loud and long, arching into his thrusts, loving the feel of Blaise so deep inside him. 

The spreader opened him wider than he’d ever thought he could stretch, and Blaise’s head reached places inside Harry he hadn’t even known existed. He was a sobbing, whimpering mess within a few thrusts, begging to come. Blaise took hold of his shaft and stroked him in harsh jerks that sent him into a dizzying orgasm, spraying come all over his chest and legs. His body was on fire, so electrified he wanted to crawl right out of his skin. And Blaise wasn’t even done with him yet. He continued to fuck straight through the orgasm, his ridged cock scraping over Harry’s prostate with each thrust. Harry wanted to reach out to him, cling to his skin for dear life. Blaise kissed him, taking his mouth as he was taking his body. Harry tried to reach for his face, but the spreader left his fingers just out of reach. He whimpered again, knew he was begging, but Blaise just tutted and pulled away, thrusting particularly deep as he straightened.

Harry tried to rock back into the thrusting, but his bound state made it impossible for him to do more than wriggle. His eyes caught Blaise’s deep red and held, the intensity of the moment linking them together. He could tell Blaise was about to come, and he wanted it terribly. He squeezed his arse with what little control he had left, smiling as it did the trick. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as ribbon after ribbon of come shot into him and over him, coating his inner walls and his abused hole. Blaise thrust back in slowly, pushing the come deeper inside him, playing with him. 

Harry smiled, completely satisfied and feeling a little dotty. His arse was sore, but he didn’t mind. He let himself float in a sea of pleasure, his only awareness that of Blaise’s tongue slowly lapping up every last drop of come on his skin. When he next had conscious thought, he was curled up in Blaise’s lap on a sofa in the middle of the lounge, free of the spreader, and with Blaise’s strong fingers trailing up and down his back. Blaise was talking to someone, his deep tenor a soothing balm to Harry’s frayed nerves. Harry cuddled closer, uncaring of who saw him. He noticed that he was wearing the shorts again, and the feel of leather under his bare legs told him Blaise was back in his trousers. 

Blaise pressed a kiss to his forehead and smiled down at him. “You’ve come back to me, I see. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Harry grinned and curled a hand around Blaise’s neck, pleased to finally be allowed to touch him again. “Yeah, that was... intense. I didn’t think I’d like being paddled that much.”

Blaise pushed a few wayward strands out of his face and stroked his cheek. “You enjoy the odd smack. It only stood to reason that you would enjoy a full spanking. And the spreader?”

Harry’s grin widened. “That was... yeah, that was good.”

“Excellent. Now, I’ve ordered a light snack for you. Are you hungry?” 

Harry’s stomach grumbled and he nodded. Blaise held up a crust of bread with what smelt like brie on it. Harry took a bite, hesitant with strangers so near. He quite liked it when Blaise fed him in bed, but there was something different about giving up his vulnerability while others watched. Any more intimate than Blaise spanking you and fucking you on a stage while you were trussed up like a turkey and begging for it? his mind mocked sarcastically. Harry shook the thought away and ate the rest of the cheesy bread, savoring the delicious taste as he chewed. 

Blaise took the conversation he had been having back up, making Harry aware that a man sat next to them on the couch, a submissive curled up at the man’s feet, watching Harry. The boy was younger than Harry, not more than twenty he didn’t think, small and thin, with thick blond hair and very blue eyes. He was beautiful, classically so. And he wore nothing but a studded leather collar around his neck. It took Harry a moment to recognize him as the submissive who had been stretched over a table and fucked with the dildo when they’d first arrived. He glanced at the dominant, and was met with a surprise. He had thought all the dominants would be built like Blaise, tall and strong. Harry would be surprised if this man was taller than he was, and he was thick as a tree trunk, all solid muscles, but not lean like Blaise. His hair was buzzed too short to say what color it was other than dark, and his nipples were pierced. Harry spent more time than he probably should have staring at them. 

“Harry, now that you are with us once more, I would like you to meet Joshua, and Joshua’s submissive, Paul. Joshua, Paul, this is Harry, my mate.”

Harry turned to Joshua, smiling and holding his hand out. Joshua smiled back, but did not reach out to take it. Instead, Blaise twined their fingers together and placed them back in his lap. Harry turned to Blaise, confused. “Submissives do not shake hands with anyone they are meeting for the first time,” Blaise explained. 

“Oh. Sorry, I’m still learning. Sir,” Harry hesitated, blushing. 

Joshua brushed the blunder off. “You meant well. You may call me Master Joshua, if you like. We were quite impressed with your performance tonight. Blaise informs us that you have never had a formal session before this evening. Is that true?”

“Formal session?” Harry turned to Blaise again.

“A formal BDSM session. He was surprised to learn that you had never been inside a playroom before this evening.”

Harry’s blush deepened. “Oh, yeah, no. We’ve, erm, done things, but nothing like this. And definitely not in front of others. It’d be all over the papers if I had.”

“Master Blaise wasn’t teasing me, then; you really are Harry Potter?” Paul asked, leaning in closer. His voice was higher and more effeminate than Harry had expected.

“Yes, I am,” Harry answered, looking at Paul for his reaction. 

Paul leaned in even closer, looking at Harry with a not-unfamiliar awe. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Harry wasn’t sure what else to say to these men, so he was grateful that Blaise held another crust of brie in front of him to distract him. 

“What do you think of the club, Harry?” Joshua asked. 

Harry swallowed the last of his bite and looked to Blaise, unsure what to say. Blaise pushed his hair from his face, waiting patiently for his answer. “It’s nice, sir. The privacy is wonderful, and I can tell that most of the club members respect each other and this lifestyle.”

“I’m glad you like it, pet,” Blaise said in pleasure. He pulled Harry into a kiss, his tongue taking over Harry’s mouth and making him melt. He still felt a little lost and floaty, despite the food. He buried his face in Blaise’s neck, forgetting that it might be rude. He was tired and just wanted to cuddle into his lover and fall asleep. Blaise combed through his hair and kissed his forehead. “I think it might be time to go home and put you to bed. Joshua, Paul, please enjoy your night. I hope we will meet again, soon.” 

Joshua and Paul returned his farewell. Harry looked up as he was lifted into Blaise’s arms, but only long enough to wave at his new acquaintances before burying his nose back in Blaise’s neck. The next thing he was aware of was being settled into bed naked. Blaise crawled in next to him a moment later, pulling him close and kissing him. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

Harry smiled sleepily. “You knew I would.”

“That I did. I enjoyed sharing that part of my life with you.”

“Are we going back?”

“We can go back whenever you like, pet.”

“Good.”

“Go to sleep, pet.” 

“Okay,” Harry rasped, already half-way there. The last thing he felt was Blaise’s lips against his.


	3. 20 Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry goes out with the lads and receives the Spanish Inquisition, thankfully without the torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta, drarryisgreen!

“So how’s the incubus?” Seamus asked. They were in a grimy little pub in London—Muggle because Harry was getting tired of the press. Harry hadn’t seen any of his mates in a few weeks, too busy with work and Blaise to get out to the pub, and he was just enjoying a chance to spend time with the lads.

Harry shrugged, mildly surprised Seamus even cared. “He’s fine, why?”

“Things are still going... well?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I don’t know. You never tell us anything about him. I learn more about him in Witch Weekly than I do from you.”

Harry glanced around the table and saw that his mates had all scooted closer, clearly as interested as Seamus in what Harry had to say. “All right, out with it. What do you want to know,” he asked, spreading his hands out in invitation. This was probably a fantastically bad idea. He was fairly pissed, after all. Who knew what was going to come out of his mouth. He knew the lads wouldn’t spill the beans to a reporter, though, so he didn’t let himself worry about it. They all started asking questions on top of each other.

“What’s he like in bed?” “Is it true he owns a sex club?” “Are you monogamous?” “Does he drink your blood?” “Is he still a twat?” The last came from Zach, who earned himself a sharp look from Harry.

“Does he drink my blood? You can’t be serious,” was his first response, accompanied by an eye roll. “He feeds from sexual energy, not bodily fluids. All he has to do is touch me, really.” _And he likes to eat my come,_ he thought, but didn’t say. “We’re monogamous. It’s a struggle for him sometimes, I think, but he’s faithful.”

“And the sex club?” Dean re-asked.

Harry hesitated. “Er... of a sort? It’s a Gentlemen’s Club that happens to cater to men of a certain... persuasion.”

“You don’t really think you’re leaving it at that, do you? Explain.”

“Fine, but you’re going to wish you hadn’t pressed.” Harry took a fortifying swig of his lager and explained. “It’s for men who are part of the BDSM lifestyle. But it’s not like going to one of those crazy sex clubs where you hook up randomly. Most of the members are in permanent or semi-permanent relationships.” Harry glanced down and took another drink. “Not that I’ve been to a sex club before or anything.”

His explanation appeared to throw them all for a loop. There was a momentary silence before Ron piped up. “Do you go with him?”

“I have.”

“Like, as his partner?” Seamus asked.

“No, I go as a complete stranger he’s never seen before. Of course I go as his partner! What’s wrong with you?”

“Isn’t there usually like a... slave and a master type person in those relationships?”

“Submissive. There is a master and a submissive. The master is in control and takes care of the sub, and the sub obeys the master and does his best to make the master happy.”

“And which one of those are you?”

A few months ago it would have hurt Harry’s pride to admit it, but he was so satisfied with his relationship with Blaise now that he didn’t mind them knowing. He was also six sheets to the wind and working on number seven. “I’m his submissive. But usually only when I go with him to the club. At home, we’re fairly equal.””

“So you let him tie you up and... spank you and... f-fuck you?” Seamus hesitated over the last few words, as though he couldn’t imagine letting anyone do that to him.

“Yes. To all those things and a few not on the list. I let him do whatever he wants to me.” They all looked shocked at him. He dismissed their surprise with a hand wave. “But the thing is, he would never do something to me that I wouldn’t enjoy. He’s very strict about making sure I like everything we do. We talk about it sometimes, but mostly he can sense if I’m not into something, and then he stops and does something else. The whole thing is based on trusting your partner to take care of you. I trust him very much, and he hasn’t done anything that would make me not trust him.”

There was another silence, longer this time. Ron got up to get another round of drinks while the lads digested what Harry told them. When he came back, he asked, “So, do you have sex in front of strangers, then?”

Harry smiled, glassy eyed and very, very pissed by then. “I don’t really think about it that way. I just sort of focus on Blaise and what we’re doing, and the rest is just sort of... buzz...” He waved his hand off to the side in a dismissive move. Everyone else at the table just looked at each other, either too stunned or (in Zach’s case) too disgusted to say anything. “Blaise calls it sub-space. I zone out of everything else and just focus on him. I get all floaty and happy. It’s nice.”

“What’s your safe word?” Zach asked, a little mocking sneer on his lip as he took his next swig of beer. Harry was too sloshed to notice.

“Don’t have one,” he answered simply.

“Harry, that isn’t safe. What if he goes too far and hurts you or does something you don’t want?” Ron protested, looking horrified.

“It’s Blaise. He would rather cut his own dick off than hurt me. I trust him to keep me safe more than I trust myself.” There were more murmurings of disbelief, but Harry merely shook his head. “I get you’re all trying to protect me, but you’re missing the point. Blaise and I are mates, like _soul mates_ mates. He wants to keep me safe and happy as much as I do, probably more. And besides, even if he wasn’t so concerned about my happiness, he still wouldn’t try to hurt me. He feeds off my energy, right? He says it tastes really horrid when the sex isn’t consensual, like rotten eggs or something.”

“And you believe him?” Zach asked, voice dripping with disdain.

“Yeah, I do. Any other questions, or can we change the subject finally?” Harry glared around the table, getting a little tired of the inquisition. The lads looked like they had more questions, but were hesitant to ask. Harry’s glare turned vicious, and Dean immediately started talking about a new comic idea he’d come up with the week before.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of ficlet sequels to Law of Averages. If there is an aspect of Blaise and Harry's life or a scenario within the Law of Averages universe you are interested in seeing written, please do not hesitate to ask either in the comments below or by PM or email at rons.pigwidgeonATgmailDOTcom. You can also message me on my tumblr, and check there for writing updates. I cannot guarantee that I will write every suggestion I get, but I will certainly take them all under consideration.


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